Threads Of Fate
by MuddyWolf
Summary: Loosely based off the extra in Reload where Hakkai is knitting a scarf.


Through the panes of the window the gold eyes watched the blizzard. He'd eaten many lunches since he first made tracks in the snow. Many meat buns and spring rolls, too many for him to count. And since then he learned that snow didn't make everything so silent and lonely after all: Not when you beaned Sanzo with a snowball. No, it wasn't silent at all!

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THROW AT ME, YOU STUPID CHIMP!"

Volleys of gunshots, taunts from the water sprite---yep, Goku was painfully aware of the existence of others: the monk's fan made sure of that.

iMaybe 'cause that fan was so heavy, it would keep them warm. Yeah, that must be it/i

Goku headed with his smiling air away from the window off towards the ill-tempered monk, who was casually leaning against the back of a chair, fumes of white smoke pouring from his cigarette into a cloud on the newspaper in his hands. An eternally irritated frown seemed to slice through his lower jaw. He didn't look away from the newsprint as he muttered grouchily,

"What."

"Hey, Sanzo--"

"If you say 'I'm hungry', I'm going to kill you," threatened the priest in his unnervingly cool, even tone, that gave listeners the message that Sanzo teetered always on the brink of a murderous rampage. The threat seemed far from empty: hiis head submerged in the newspaper but his hand already clasped around his gun. The monkey jerked backwards from the gleam of that weapon that he and Water Sprite always seemed to be staring down the barrel at, but he stood firm, frowning. "I wasn't gonna say that, Sanzo!"

i/iI'm kinda full...

"Then what were you going to say?" The drooping pupils shifted downwards to the corner of his eyes. Not surprisingly, his irritation hadn't diminished. In fact, the tone of his voice indicated he was even MORE pissed off at the monkey.

"Can you make fans for everyone 'cause it's cold out?" he asked. His glowing face was very near the stormy one of the priest's. The eyes practically shimmered with expectancy.

And in a flash Sanzo had the gun pressing up against those shimmering eyes. Thunder roared and crashed above the human's blonde head. From out of nowhere Water Sprite slid out from behind Goku and buried his fist in the back of Goku's head. The boy lurched forward and smacked into the floor.

"Honestly, how stupid can ya get, monkey!" shouted the shock of red hair and antennae. The roach.. "You should know better than any of us those fans're for smacking!"

"Huh—wha—Sanzo smacks you too, water sprite! That means you're stupid, too!"

"Ya wanna say that again!"

"Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid--!"

The imminent threat of a bullet from Sanzo's banishing gun almost magically bestowed silence once more.

The only hint of activity was the shadow of a needle and thread and the fourth member of the group of "pilgrims" bent over a long piece of whitish fabric, with a genial smile one couldn't help but suspect was contrived. It was one of those too-friendly smiles. Those glowing grins that hid something devious, even malicious.

Yet you could never know with Hakkai. His moments of sincerity and insincerity blended with each other in one seamless conglomerate. His true intentions were a darting fly: you just couldn't pin them down.

Goku had asked him what he was doing, and his quiet reply was that he was making a scarf for everyone since it was cold out. As slow to comprehending he was, the youngest and yet oldest of the party couldn't help noticing the unusual length of the scarf.

"I thought I'd make it extra long so everyone could share it."

As Goku cheerfully imagined himself running after those scrumptious meat buns with Sanzo, Gojyo, and Hakkai trailing along in a heap wearing their brand-new scarf, the one with the monocle continued knitting, his green eyes fixated on his work.

A crinkling of the newspaper. Hakkai pretended to not feel the priestly rage building up from behind the print.

"Hakkai."

"Yes?"

"You're not even thinking of making just one scarf for the four of us."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, brimming with the latent intensity of a volcano ready to erupt. Sanzo knew all too well what Hakkai was planning, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Why not?"

The light from the room reflected off Hakkai's monocle. It was impossible to see his right eye, but Sanzo could tell just from his feigned obliviousness that Hakkai planned to go through with this ridiculous plan of his. Sure enough, he continued his knitting without looking up. Gojyo began to get wind of it, too, and he stood squarely over his former housemate, shaking a swarthy fist at the dark mess of hair.

"Hey—Hakkai, what's the big idea! How can I pick up chicks with three dudes with me! Ya wanna put me out of a job!"

"Don't you think---"

He worked the threads, and the scarf grew longer and longer.

"It's nice—"

By now it was long enough for Sanzo, Goku, and Gojyo to wear.

"For us to be---"

Before long it would fit around his neck as well.

"—_Together_ like this?"

Sanzo trained his gun on the soft-looking forehead of his "travelling companion".

"DON'T. I don't want to have to be _reminded_ that we're on this little field trip together. It's bad enough being around you three idiots. Got it?"

The murky green eye behind the monocle glinted.

"Yes sir."

Hakkai was still smiling as this spray can appeared out of nowhere. Before any of them could react, even Goku had been hit in the face with the gas and three out of the four members of the Sanzo party were out cold on the floor. White fumes from Gojyo's cigarette danced lazily upwards. The conscious man stood above them, his teeth flashing in a grin. His light frame seemed to be consumed with shadow. And for the whole time, his lips curved upwards in that haunting smile.

"The truth of the matter is, gentlemen…"

Hakkai unravelled the fruits of his labor, the finished article hitting the floor. Next to it was the limp pale hand of the priest, which at any second looked like it would suddenly ball into a fist and give the sneaky bastard one in the gut.

But the priest, the kappa, and the monkey were unconscious. Hakkai, who seemed to be completely engulfed in shadow save for the eerie white of his monocle, bent over them with his newly-fashioned weapon clasped in his deceptively frail hands. He wrapped the scarf around Sanzo's neck, whose eyebrows were still slanted in irritated defiance. Even his hair, some strands lying away from his face, looked stiff and inhospitable.

"Our lives are bound by the will of the gods."

He took the remaining length of the scarf and proceeded to his next victim.

"Our pasts, presents, and futures..they are all linked."

Gojyo. The cigarette stood there between his clenched teeth, gripping his addiction as if for dear life.

"Even if we wanted to separate---"

Now he had something warmer than that jacket and tanktop. That silly Gojyo, wearing something like that in the winter. It was a good thing he had Hakkai to look after his well being.

"Go our own path---"

Why couldn't they be more like Goku? Wouldn't this change of pace be fun? Weren't they bored after these many months on the road?

"It would be impossible."

He wrapped the third part of the white material around Goku's neck. A contented sigh floated up from his childish lips, and he rolled over. Sleeping like a baby.

"Instead we are---tied, as with this scarf, together on the same path."

Hakkai now sat on the floor, lifting the rest of the scarf and tying it around his neck.

"This is a literal example of our situation. I think it will bring us closer than ever before."

And they all sat there, serenely, wearing the same scarf. The last one sat with his thread and needle, his bright face betraying a hint of mischievous triumph.

"Isn't it wonderful?"

The End


End file.
